Mind Shift

Sorry for the absence! School is back in full swing and I have been very busy getting ready for it all!

My mind took a shift from "all about me" to "all about work" a couple of weeks ago and it has been hard for me to tap into my reflective side.

I'm still seeing V once a week, but right now school is the only thing on my mind. Once things settle in a little bit more, the "all about me" side will start to open itself back up.

I did have some rather disturbing dreams last night, though. Hoping those don't continue if I keep neglecting this other side of me.

Revelations

My session with V on Thursday was intense. My body has responded by throwing me in a tailspin of uncontrollable panic attacks and horrible mood swings. I had to leave work Friday because I couldn't get myself under control. I can't even begin to wrap my head around how much I am going to have to release to heal. God help me.

"He could have killed you." It's scary how true those words are. If he wanted to, he could have killed me. No doubt. He was so much stronger than I was. To hear that I possibly saved my own life by not fighting back is a double-edged sword. Horrible to think that I could have ever been in that much danger, yet good because for once I can sincerely acknowledge that I did not and could not have had as much control as I pretend I could have. That throws a kink in my belief that I could have done anything to stop him... something I've all but convinced myself was true. But seeds of doubt are growing and I'm beginning to see that for exactly what it is: not true. As scary as it is to ponder what my reaction would be if I was placed in the same (or worse) situation now, overpowered by someone bigger than me, terrified and hurt, I wouldn't think my reaction would be any different. I would do what I thought would be safest for me and not fight back; live to see another day. Being able to identify this for the first time ever is already making it harder to blame the 13 year old for doing the exact same thing. Yet, I'm stuck in a place where I don't know what to do with that. So much focus and thought has been spent on the "what if's" that I started taking on the blame. If I suddenly don't acknowledge them anymore, where does all that emotion go? I can attempt to throw it all on him, but it's like two opposing sides of a magnet; no matter how hard you keep pushing, it'll keep getting bounced off or thrown back. Why can't I feel ANYTHING about him? There literally is nothing there. It just doesn't make sense. I wish I could understand why, that of everyone in my life at that time, he is the only one who never got any anger. Everyone else has, either directly or indirectly. I have hated them all for lesser things. But not him. Why have I made him immune to my emotions?

-- Journal writing from Thursday night, post session

Staying Afloat

Session last night was all about my attempts to stay afloat. So much has happened/will be happening in the span of 3 weeks that I am just waiting to fall apart. And when I do, it will be bad. Part of me just wants to lie down and let it take over me. Why struggle and make it worse? Letting it consume me might just be easier. I'm so stressed and emotionally stretched right now I just don't know how much more I can handle.

Of course that unhealthy outlook is causing me to fall back on unhealthy coping mechanisms. I went almost a month without cutting, but relapsed on Saturday. And I didn't care that I did. I didn't even want to fight to stop. At this point, it doesn't seem worth it.

I'm beat down and I'm losing the will to fight.

But does A let me get by with that way of thinking? Of course not. Everything I'm learning is being called to put into practice. The reason I'm working so hard to make things better is for reasons like this. Changing during the really hard times has to be a conscious choice. I have to want to make it different. And of course I'm not there yet. I want to do what is easy, even though I know I have the tools to make it better.

Doing what is right is hard work.

On The Threshold of Hope

I really am at a loss for what to reflect on. I have never felt so disconnected from myself. I hate to compare it to denial, because with denial at least you are on some level feeling some sort of emotion just choosing to squash it... it is so much worse than that. I am not intentionally squashing anything. I am just here. There's nothing behind what you see; no pain, no fear, no anger. Numb.

I've started re-reading On the Threshold of Hope again, hoping to help me go back and reflect on things that I pushed aside because they were too hard to deal with initially. A lot of it I feel I have already moved past, but there are some things that still ring true, and others where my "hell-no-o-meter" is still going off loud and clear.

Chapter 1 (approriately named) "Getting Started"

When I first began this book, I was about 4 months in to counseling, having just verbalized my story for the first time since I first disclosed it to my mom, my counselor and then to the police and prosecutors. After those intial 12 weeks, I never spoke of it again for 12 years. My counselor recommended this book, as she had used it in the past with other clients dealing with sexual abuse, and she liked it because of how it was geared towards spiritual healing as well as healing of the body and mind.

The first chapter begins with a breakdown of the "voices" you will be hearing throughout the book. No, you aren't going crazy... you really will hear voices. ;) The first being the voice of the author; inserting her own experiences with clients and important identifications of the symptoms/thoughts/beliefs etc of sexual abuse victims. The second is the voice of survivors. Those she has worked with and gathered information on all the way up to Elie Wie.sel's abuse suffered at Ausch.witz. The third voice will be your own; chiming in with "Wow, I could have written that passage word for word" or "I can't believe someone else thinks that too." Other times the voice will remain silent. The last voice is that of the Redeemer. For those like me who have struggled with allowing that voice to break through the hurt and pain that you have carried around, this voice may not be as loud as the others. It may not break through for quite some time.

The author writes "... (this book is) meant to assure you that there is a way out of the darkness, that others have gone before you and now want to lend their voices to encourage you. It is my prayer that this book will enable you to see yourself "on the threshold of hope." "

You Have To Be Ready

Sunday I met my mom and sister for lunch, but they both came over to my place first so we could all drive together. My sister had posted on Facebook that she was excited about something that was going to happen the previous night, then in the morning posted how awful it was. Apparently my mom knew more about what the entire situation was because she started speaking in code, but I was able to get her to be more open. She's afraid of being judged. I have been hard on her in the past, so I understood her hesitancy.

Back in July I had asked her if she wanted to get together one weekend and she told me she was busy. Again, I asked what she was doing and she wouldn't tell me because she was afraid I was going to judge her. Through a short game of 20 questions, I found out that she had been in contact with an old high sch.ool teacher of hers (she's now 22) that she had a huge crush on. They had been talking about meeting up that weekend. Why would that be a problem for me? Well, he's married.

Yikes.

I don't approve of it, but I can't do anything about it. She's an adult, he's an adult. I didn't tell her anything but to be careful.

So rewind to this past Saturday. They had finally set up plans to meet up (while his wife was conveniently out of town, nice, right?) and she said she was excited all day long but as she was getting ready she was so nervous. She downed 3 shots to calm her nerves, then drove (yikes, again) 30 minutes to meet him. She said the whole time she was there, she kept downing drinks to calm her nerves. She said he kept leaning over and touching her, just stroking her arm or leg, or touching her hair. Thoroughly weirded out, she said she went outside to smoke (according to her so trashed she couldn't even sit up straight) and he came up behind her and started rubbing her back and telling her he wanted to take her home so he could take care of her. I have never seen my sister so panicked as she was telling us this story. She said she was freaking out, that she didn't want him to touch her and that she just wanted to leave.

I looked at her and told her, "That's what M used to do to me. He'd come up behind me and start touching me, telling me things that sounded loving but he was just earning my trust so he could hurt me later." I told her, even now I freak out when people touch me, especially guys I don't know really well. I told her the reason she was freaking out is because she knew he was not a safe person, and that her instincts were telling her to run away. And the fact that she had to drink before she got there and the whole time she was there should be a clue that something was wrong.

We let it go at that.

My little sister is crumbling. Since she broke up with her boyfriend of 5 years in July, she is finding out what it is like to try and find a guy who is not going to hurt or take advantage of her. She is on the road to alcoholism, drinking every day, often getting very drunk. She is angry. She lashes out with little reason or provocation. While her coping mechanisms are completely different than mine, she is headed down the same road I was on. That road where denial throws you head first into a brick wall and you have no idea what hit you.

You see, my little sister was abused by the same man who abused me. And I am watching the slow, painful train wreck of her life knowing that I can do nothing to stop it... why? Because she's not ready. She doesn't realize that her life is revolving around her denial that what happened when she was 10 years old didn't affect her. She hasn't the slightest clue. Even if I told her, she wouldn't see it. She is going to crash and burn and it breaks my heart that this has to happen to her, too. I've was there. 21 months ago I hit that brick wall and my life fell apart. But when that time comes, she is going to have something I didn't... a sister who has been there and can help. When she is ready, I will be there for her.